ISHMAEL WORTH'S NEWS.
Even through the hollow eye of Death
I spy Life peering; but I dare not say
How near the tidings of our comfort is.--SHAKESPEARE.
"Life, or death?" cried Lyon Berners, pallid with intense anxiety.
"It is a respite," answered Ishmael Worth, gravely and kindly, taking
the arm of the agitated man and gently leading him towards a chair.
"Only that!" groaned Lyon Berners, as he dropped heavily into the
offered seat.
"But that is much," soothingly began Ishmael Worth, "very much, for it
is an earnest of--"
"How long?" moaned Mr. Berners, interrupting his companion.
"During the pleasure of the governor. No new day has been appointed for
her--_death_!" added the young lawyer, in a low voice and after a short
pause, for he could not bear to utter the other awful word of doom.
"Go on!" said Sybil's husband, still violently shaken by his emotions.
Ishmael Worth arose from the seat into which he had sunk for a moment,
and he laid his hand on the shoulder of the suffering man and said:
"Try to calm the perturbation of your spirits, Mr. Berners, so that you
can hear and comprehend what I am about to communicate to you."
"I will."
"Listen, then. You are aware that the respite, for an indefinite period,
of any condemned person, is almost always the prelude to the full
pardon."
"Yes."
"Mrs. Berners has a respite for an indefinite period. I consider that
respite an earnest of her full pardon. You do not doubt my sincerity in
saying this?"
"No."
"Listen yet longer. As no new day has been set for her death, so I think
no further action will be taken in the matter until after the birth of
her child--and some considerable time after that event. And then, I
think, a full pardon will be granted her."
"'Hope deferred!'" began Mr. Berners, with a deep sigh.
"Yes, I know," said Ishmael Worth, with a grave smile; "but hear me
out."
"I am listening."
"I had several interviews with the governor, and though he was very
reserved in communicating his sentiments, I perceived that he really
wished to pardon his petitioner."
"Then why, in the name of Heaven, did he not do so?" demanded Mr.
Berners, starting up from his seat.
"Be calm and I will tell you," said Ishmael Worth, gently drawing him
down into the chair.
Again Lyon Berners dropped into it with a deep groan.
"If it were not that trouble has so disturbed the clearness of your
mind, you would yourself see that men in authority cannot do these
things so suddenly. I repeat that I perceived that the governor would
gladly have granted the pardon immediately upon the presentation of the
petition, founded as it was upon such strong grounds, and he was only
deterred from doing so by the fact that at the present point of time
such a pardon would be a very unpopular measure."
"That a lady's innocent life should fall a sacrifice to a politician's
selfish love of popularity!" bitterly commented Lyon Berners.
Ishmael Worth was silent for a moment, because he felt the injustice of
Lyon Berners' remarks, yet did not wish to rebuke them, and then he
said, deprecatingly:
"I do not think the governor's course here was directed by any selfish
policy. He feels that he must be guided in a great degree by the will of
the people, who are now most unjustly certainly, but most violently set
against Mrs. Berners. So he sends down the respite, to which, under the
peculiar circumstances, no one can object, and sends it as a prelude to
the pardon which I believe will certainly follow when the popular
excitement has had time to subside."
"Heaven grant it may be so," fervently prayed Lyon Berners.
"And now," said Ishmael Worth, drawing from his breast pocket a sealed
parcel directed to the sheriff of the county, "I must take this document
to Mr. Fortescue at once."
"I will not detain you, then. A thousand thanks for your kindness! I
pray Heaven that some day I may be able to return it," fervently
exclaimed Lyon Berners, rising from his chair.
Ishmael Worth took his hand and held it while he looked earnestly in his
face, and said:
"You have every good reason now to hope for the best; so much reason not
only to hope, but to feel assured of her release, that I should counsel
you to begin at once your preparations to leave the country, so as to be
able to start on your voyage with her immediately after the pardon
arrives."
"Thanks for your words of comfort! Thanks for your counsel! I always
leave your presence, Mr. Worth, with new life!" warmly exclaimed Lyon
Berners, cordially grasping and shaking the hands that held his own.
Then Ishmael Worth took leave and went away.
Lyon Berners returned to the cell of his wife. He was admitted by the
turnkey in attendance.
He found Sybil fast asleep, on the outside of her bed. Beatrix was
sitting by her, strumming low, soft notes on the guitar as an
accompaniment to a soothing air that she was singing.
"What news?" exclaimed the young lady in half-suppressed eagerness.
"There is a respite for an indefinite period, that Mr. Worth thinks is a
certain prelude to a future pardon," answered Mr. Berners, seating
himself beside his wife's bedside.
"Thank Heaven!" fervently exclaimed Beatrix. "But why not the full
pardon at once?"
Mr. Berners explained the reasons for the delay.
"The people are even more cruel and unjust than the law! But still--oh!
thank Heaven for so much hope and comfort as we have!" she said.
"Mr. Worth feels so sure of the pardon, that he advises me to make all
necessary preparations, so as to be able to leave the country
immediately upon my wife's liberation," added Mr. Berners.
"That will be glorious! Oh! do you know that advice seems so practical
that it gives me more confidence than anything else which has been
said?" exclaimed Miss Pendleton, eagerly. "I will tell Clement to begin
to get ready at once! For you know we are set to go with you!"
"God bless you!" was the only response of Lyon Berners. Then he
inquired, "How did my dear wife happen to fall asleep at this hour?"
"She laid down to rest. Then I took the guitar and sang to her and she
fell asleep like an infant."
At that moment Sybil awoke with a smile, and greeted her husband
pleasantly.
He stooped and kissed her; but said nothing of the respite, because she
was still happily unconscious of any necessity for such a thing. Neither
did he speak of the possible voyage to Europe; deeming it premature to
mention such a hope yet, lest she should, in her innocent ignorance of
her real position, chatter of it to her visitors, and so do her cause
harm.
He staid with her until the prison regulations for closing the doors at
six o'clock in the afternoon, obliged him to take leave and depart.
Then he went home in a more hopeful frame of mind than he had enjoyed
for many weeks.
The summer was slipping swiftly away.
Since the arrival of her respite for so long and indefinite a period, it
had been deemed proper by the warden to accord to his charge many
valuable privileges that she had not enjoyed, nor indeed, in her
unconsciousness of her real situation and indifference to all external
circumstances, had not missed in her imprisonment.
She was now permitted to walk in the shaded grounds and blooming gardens
within the walled inclosure around the prison.
Here, through the influence of fresh air and gentle exercise, her
physical health improved very much, though her mental malady remained
unmodified.
Here, also, some members of her household from Black Hall, were admitted
to see her.
Hitherto Miss Tabby, Raphael, and even little Cromartie had been
carefully excluded from her presence, lest the violent emotion of the
woman and the youth, or the innocent prattle of the child, should
suddenly strike
"The electric chord wherewith we are darkly bound,"
and shock her into a full consciousness of the awful position which her
friends were now more than ever anxious to conceal from her knowledge.
For they argued, if only this mist of insanity could be kept around her
for a little while longer, until the hoped-for pardon should come, then
she need never know that she had been the inmate of a prison or stood
within the shadow of the scaffold.
It was the opinion of her physician, and the fear of her friends, that
her reason would return with the birth of her child; and they prayed
that it might not do so until she should be free from the prison.
And so they had guarded her from all associations that might suddenly
bring back her memory and her understanding; and therefore had denied
the visits of her faithful and afflicted servants and _proteges_ from
Black Hall.
Now, however, after she had been some weeks enjoying the privilege of
daily exercise in the fresh air of the grounds, and her health had
gained so much, her harmless hallucination began to take a pleasing and
favorable turn.
She now knew that she was going to be a mother; and she fancied that she
was staying at some pleasant place of summer resort for the benefit of
her health, and that Beatrix Pendleton was also one of the guests of the
house; and that Lyon Berners was only an occasional visitor because the
duties of his profession confined him the greater part of the time at
Blackville.
It happened one morning, when Sybil was taking her usual exercise in the
garden, attended by her husband and her friend, she suddenly turned to
Mr. Berners and said:
"Lyon dear, I want to see Tabby and Joe. The next time you come to see
me, I wish you would bring them with you."
"I will do so, dear Sybil. Is there any one else you would like to see?"
inquired her husband, who deemed now that, with proper precautions, her
friends from Blackville might be permitted to see her.
"No, no one else particularly," she answered.
"Are you sure?"
"Why, yes, Lyon, dear; I am sure I do not care to see anybody else
especially. Why, who is there indeed, that I should care for at Black
Hall, except my own faithful servants?" she asked, a little impatiently.
She had never once, since her imprisonment, mentioned the name of
Raphael or little Cromartie. She had apparently forgotten them, as well
as all other persons and circumstances immediately connected with the
tragedy at Black Hall and the trial at Blackville.
And Mr. Berners would not venture to remind her of their existence.
"Very well, dearest, I will bring your friends to see you to-morrow,"
said Mr. Berners soothingly.